


Horses

by ab2fsycho



Series: Hold My Tea and Watch This [18]
Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pitch is funny, Sexual Content, biting kink, breaking habit, but Jack does, darjeeling is amazing, defeating fear, he doesn't think so, look i learned how to italics, tying up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-04
Updated: 2013-07-04
Packaged: 2017-12-17 15:16:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/868992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ab2fsycho/pseuds/ab2fsycho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Pitch applies his knowledge to help Jack overcome his fear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Horses

**Author's Note:**

> This episode was almost titled How to Train Your Jack.

“Pitch, are you okay?” Jack had been out on the wind trying to get some air, but had soon returned to the lair. Rin was becoming less and less of a problem. Once the connection between Jack’s fear and Rin’s appearances had been made, he’d become predictable. He’d also become more reasonable since Pitch had locked him in a cage and left him alone, but he was no less devious. More than that, summer was just bothersome and boring to begin with. Jack couldn’t wait for it to end. However, he hadn’t exactly been in a position to keep track of the passing days. Time gets treated differently when one is whisked between the pole and a perpetually dark place. For all he knew, September was swiftly approaching. The heat told him otherwise, though. But coming home to Pitch hiding under their bed couldn’t be a good sign. Or could it? “Pitch, are you listening?”

He emerged then, and Jack was able to withhold his surprise at the speed of Pitch’s emergence. He’d gotten good at predicting when the Nightmare King was about to unintentionally pull what humans would deem a ‘jump scare.’ “I may have discovered a way to break your phobia.”

Jack perked up at that. “Really? Without you panicking on me?”

Pitch squinted at him, a hint of irritation in his gaze. The look made Jack quirk a smile at him. “It’s your panic that makes me panic. Otherwise, I wouldn’t resort to something like this.”

It was Jack’s turn to glare. “Resort? Am I going to be dangling from a ceiling?”

“Not quite.”

“That’s a relief.” Jack set his staff against the wall by the bed. It looked at home by the bed, like it belonged there. The thought also helped calm Jack’s nerves as he refocused on the discussion at hand. “So how is this going to work?”

“Have you ever trained a horse?” Pitch asked.

Jack raised his eyebrows. “I can’t say I have.”

“Handling a horse takes time and patience, something that both of us lack unfortunately. The first thing a horse, or any creature really, must get used to is the hand of its trainer.” Pitch touched Jack’s cheek almost lovingly, forcing Jack to smile wider.

“Aren’t I a lovely horse?”

Jack was glad to see Pitch’s lips twitch, like he wanted to smile. He remained serious, though, continuing. “It’s easier to train a foal from birth, when they are susceptible to imprint on the one who is training it. More often than not, however, a trainer has to work through the mistakes or lessons a young horse has already endured. The case is especially true when the horse has been handled roughly in the past and has learned not to trust.”

“Yay me!” Jack said unenthusiastically.

“Most anything can be remedied with consistency. There isn’t much consistency in my holding your wrists. The pressure will change, the weight, all of the minute details we don’t think about unless we really put a lot of thought into it. There would be consistency if—.”

“You were to tie me up to something,” Jack finished for him.

“Yes.”

“Like a horse.”

Pitch hesitated, then nodded. “Yes. The problem lies in how to tie you. It needs to be firm enough to really achieve our goal, but it needs to be loose enough to give when you panic.”

“Use your shadows.”

Pitch squinted at him again. “Well, what else did you think I was going to use?”

“I really don’t know. At this point, I just expect you to have any number of oddities lying around in here.”

“You consider rope an oddity?”

“Maybe not rope, but what you might use it for, maybe.”

“Why would I have rope when I have—?”

“Don’t read too much into it, Boogeyman.” Jack stepped closer and stood on his toes to kiss the Nightmare King.

Pitch sighed against Jack’s lips when the Guardian settled back on his feet. “You will be the death of me.”

“If you die, I’ll kill you.”

“That makes no sense.”

“It’s not supposed to.” Jack sighed, his shoulders sagging. “Let’s get started. How are we doing this?”

“The bars on the bed will work.” Pitch and Jack made eye contact, and Jack realized that Pitch looked about as nervous as he was beginning to feel. He hadn’t started shaking yet, but he knew he would. He always did. “You’re certain you want to do this?”

“There’s no other way, is there?” Pitch sighed, shaking his head. He hated this. Jack could tell he hated this. No matter how bizarre it may seem, it was obvious the Nightmare King was uncomfortable with Jack’s anxiety. Well, that made two of them.

Before either of them could flake out, Jack sat on the bed and slid on so that his back was flush against the bars. He held his wrists out to Pitch, who sat with him before taking what was offered to him in both hands. Jack closed his mouth and his lips tightened into a thin line as the heat of Pitch’s open palms almost burned his forearms through his hoody. “Breathe, Jack.”

Jack felt foolish that Pitch had to remind him to breathe. He let out a shaky breath as Pitch slowly moved Jack’s arms so that they were resting against the bars on either side of his head. He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing, hoping it would help. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, the shadows crept across his sensitive skin. Exhale, they began twining around his arms. Inhale, they tightened just the slightest bit. Exhale, Pitch’s warmth fled his senses.

The involuntary shivering started as the reality of being bound set in. He opened his eyes, still struggling to inhale and exhale in a steady rhythm. Pitch sat with him, but he had moved to the foot of the bed to give Jack room. Pitch watched him carefully throughout the unsteady breathing and involuntary shaking. Jack knew he was looking for any sign that Jack had had enough of this experiment. Pitch often forgot to take into account how stubborn Jack was.

Jack tested the bonds. A jolt of terror rocketed through him when he was met with the resistance. He stilled, his eyes wide as his breathing grew uneven again. Though Pitch had managed to create an illusion of elasticity in the ties so that Jack could struggle without serious injury, Jack’s first instinct was stop moving and hope the sensation disappeared. But no, his wrists remained in place. The pressure surrounding his pale skin stayed the same. His heart hammered in his chest and his breathing suddenly stopped. He held his breath and closed his eyes as the pounding and shivering got worse. He clenched his fists against the fear. He had to stop the fear. He had to fight it. The gray area on his arm tingled as he felt Rin responding to his fear. He didn’t even feel Pitch reposition himself on the bed so that he was sitting up straight with knees tucked under him. “Jack, you need to breathe.” Jack fought to open his eyes, a short breath gasping past his lips and through clenched teeth. Pitch’s eyes were intense. “Watch me.”

“Pitch—.”

“Trust me, Jack. Trust and watch me.” Pitch breathed in through his nose slowly, then exhaled through his mouth just as steadily. “Try it.” Jack’s breaths were shaky at first, the hammering in his chest and the tingling in his arm distracting him. After the first time he attempted it, Pitch said, “Again.” Jack obeyed, his attempt still shaky but not as bad as before. “Keep going.” Again, Jack obeyed. As he continued, the tension in his chest released. His heart rate slowed and his breathing stabilized. The shaking didn’t stop. That was expected, though. Through it all, he kept his eyes on Pitch. The fear remained, but Rin settled back down within him. Pitch’s gaze lost its intensity as Jack settled back down. “You’re doing better.”

Jack kept his eyes on Pitch. It helped. It helped to have him there, guiding him through the waves of horror. He sat staring for a while, then worked up the energy to speak. “How often do you train a horse?”

“Every day if possible.”

“Then, an hour a day should do the trick.”

“An hour? That’s pushing it—.”

“An hour and no less.” Pitch clenched his jaw, but recognized Jack’s resolve. Jack was grateful that he didn’t argue with him any further. “How does it taste?”

“What?” If Pitch were a dog, Jack knew he would have tilted his head in confusion.

“My fear. Is it . . . easier this way?”

Pitch looked down, brow furrowed as he thought over his response. “Easier is not the right word, but it is certainly more bearable when I’m not in direct contact with you. Not as bitter.”

“You mentioned before it was like acid?”

“Yes. Acid. Metallic, stinging, and sets my innards on fire. This is what the fear of those close to me does.”

Jack paused. “Those?”

“I haven’t always been alone, you know.” The admission seemed to have pained Pitch, so Jack didn’t ask. They sat in silence for a moment, watching each other. Pitch’s expression had fallen, and Jack felt guilty for having saddened him. “Don’t do that.”

“What?”

“Pity me.”

“I’m not—.”

“You were.”

“Pitch—.”

“You were.” He said it more forcefully the second time. Jack looked away then, avoiding Pitch’s face.

The silence left nothing but the shivering and the bonds for Jack to focus on. “I always was.”

“Come again?” Pitch’s tone was softer.

“Alone. I was always alone. Until . . .,” he paused before he continued. “Really, until you showed up. Had you not challenged the Guardians, I would still be ignored.”

Jack didn’t look up at Pitch. In fact he closed his eyes and tried to find a way to stop shivering. He didn’t want to focus any longer on the sore spot he’d just brought up. He just wanted to fight the phobia. He jumped when a hot hand touched his chin and tilted his head upward. Jack found himself lost in Pitch’s gaze once again. “You don’t have to be alone anymore.”

Jack smiled warmly at his Boogeyman, momentarily forgetting about the fact that he was shaking. When Pitch kissed him, all other sensations disappeared into the peripheral.



A few days later, they were back in the same position. They’d stuck with Jack’s quota for an hour a day, though Pitch still tried to talk him out of his many times. Jack’s progress was slow, but they timed it based on how soon he could form coherent thoughts after the initial binding. The interval between the binding and the conversation starter wasn’t getting noticeably shorter yet, but they liked to think they were making progress.

Jack hadn’t been tied up long enough to begin thinking somewhat clearly before the oddest occurrence caught his attention. Pitch was doing something he had never done in front of Jack before. “Is that a book?”

“You’re very observant, Jack.”

“Are you wearing glasses?”

“The term you’re looking for is ‘spectacles.’” Sure enough, Pitch had on a pair of half-moon spectacles and was cracking open a thick, black book.

Pitch could tell Jack couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He could practically hear the thoughts going through Jack’s head: Pitch read? Pitch did something other than hide objects, scare people, and . . . do things with him? How had Jack not known this sooner? “You’re reading.”

“Isn’t that obvious?” Pitch asked, a little exasperated and still on the first page.

“I’m not asking, just . . . wow, that is the last thing I expected you to be doing.”

Pitch didn’t look up, instead focusing on the book in his hands. “What else am I supposed to do while you’re working through your phobia? As appealing as you are to me, I can’t just stare at you all the time.”

“Never stopped you before.” Pitch tried to hide his smirk by raising the book higher. He didn’t speak after that, and but he noticed Jack ignoring the habitual shivering and stretching against the binds to find a title on the book. It should’ve given Jack pause that the restraints weren’t bothering him half as much as they should. Instead, he was entirely too interested in Pitch’s choice of activities. “Is it _Twilight_?”

“What on earth is that?”

“Some story that warranted a whole slew of girls crying and beating each other up over it.”

“Sounds like the kind of horror I work to avoid, really.”

Jack continued straining to see what it was Pitch was reading. Then he realized Pitch was still on the first page. “Are you reading or just distracting me?”

Pitch’s smile was visible despite his efforts to hide it. “It’s more that your curiosity is distracting me.”

“I just wanna know what you’re reading!” Jack shouted playfully.

“The suspense is killing you, isn’t it?”

“Yes!”

Pitch closed the book and tilted his head downward so that he was peering at him over the glasses. Jack stifled a laugh. Then Pitch crawled over so that he was sitting beside him, settling in and opening the book again so Jack could read the title. “Satisfied?”

“Really? You haven’t read _Dracula_?”

“I’m fairly slow in catching up on what’s popular.”

“This was published three hundred years ago. You’re a bit behind.”

“I said I was slow.” Mock irritation crept into Pitch’s tone as he turned to the first page again. “Now can I actually read it?”

“Of course you can read. It’s good for you.” There was a pause as Pitch focused on the page again. Jack nestled against Pitch, making himself comfortable despite the shivering. Eventually, Pitch didn’t notice the shaking anymore. Either that, or it had stopped completely. Pitch read, getting a few pages down before Jack interrupted with, “Wait, turn back!”

“Have you been reading over my shoulder?”

“I can’t read over your shoulder if I’m on your shoulder.”

“Stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Being beautiful.”

“After you stop being funny.”

Pitch closed the book and feigned glaring down at Jack. Jack wasn’t fazed. He knew the difference between Pitch’s genuine displeasure and Pitch’s attempt at seeming displeased a little too well. “I am not funny.”

“Uh huh? You’re scary as hell, right?”

“If you weren’t tied up right now, you’d be getting a surprise.”

“I’m sure it wouldn’t be much of a surprise.”

“Are you intentionally antagonizing me?” Jack’s mischievous grin did him in. At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to embrace the boy and take him into his arms. “Would it trouble you to postpone this session?”

“A little, but I’ll forgive myself soon enough.”

“Excellent.” The bonds disappeared and before Pitch knew what he was doing, he’d pulled Jack across his lap and they were pulling each other’s clothes off.

Pitch could never grow tired of running his hands, tongue, and lips over Jack’s body. He could never grow tired of the chill of his skin, the dips in his back, the softness of his hair, the beauty of his moans. He could never grow tired of Jack Frost. He held the young Guardian to him, pressing him into the mattress as he thrust into him. Jack’s noises were music to Pitch’s ears, the boy’s white fists clenching the sheets a pleasure to behold. Pitch ran a hand over Jack’s ribcage and down to his hip, where the Nightmare King gripped his body so he could thrust harder. Jack’s grip on the sheets tightened, his groans growing louder. “Bite,” Jack suddenly gasped out.

“Say that again.” Pitch wanted to make sure he’d heard correctly.

“Dammit Pitch, bite!” Pitch grinned as he obliged him, sinking his teeth into the boy’s shoulder. Jack cried out, a hand finding its place in Pitch’s hair as the Boogeyman thrust harder.

And Pitch was suddenly reminded of yet another thing he could never grow tired of: making Jack scream. Oh, how he’d missed that game.

**Author's Note:**

> And THAT is the end of Phase Two, my freaky darlings. Now on to celebrate with French Vanilla tea and cry over the end of Lindzzz's EB series.
> 
> And then Phase Three of the "plan" will come into fruition.


End file.
